Fated Mates: Paranormal Romance Series Starters Boxset

by Hariharan, Laxmi

"Trust me." Letting go of her hands, he hooked his fingers on the waistband of her pants and then drew them off, along with her panties.

  The air against her naked flesh had goosebumps rising. Or maybe it was the intensity of his gaze which raked over her skin as she lay there.

  Dropping between her legs, he clasped his fingers around her ankles, yanking her closer.

  She squeaked.

  He threw her one leg and then the other over his shoulders. Leaning in, he blew gently over her melting core.

  The surge of liquid heat that rushed from her womb crashed over her in a storm of yearning so fierce, every part of her skin seemed to shiver with pain.

  She arched her back off the bed, plunging her fingers into his hair.

  "Please," she gasped. Another shudder of heat coursed through her. She felt her pulse in her throat. Every part of her ached.

  He trailed his lips over her stomach and up the hollow valley between her breasts. Kissing the hollow at the base of her throat, he placed his elbows on either side of her body.

  His biceps bulged with the weight of holding himself up.

  The emptiness inside her churned, gathering into a storm that threatened to overcome.

  She wanted to close her thighs, wanted him inside her, just wanted… "Aaron."

  Her voice seemed to get through him.

  Parting her thighs further, he plunged.

  One moment she was empty. The next, he was there, filling her.

  His hard length slid down the most erogenous part of her, igniting a fire that coursed through her veins to surge over her dragon. Her beast reveled in it. Her dragon only seemed to absorb the impact and grow impossibly bigger, pushing through her every cell.

  The gold and green flames poured through her, and she let them take over.

  Hope threw her head back and went up in flames.

  53

  Aaron

  Aaron pulled back from her, almost all the way back so his hardness teased her sensitive entrance. The spicy taste of her in his mouth, his fingers clasped around flesh so creamy, so silky, he was in danger of never letting go.

  The scent of her, that vanilla and hot spice was laced with wildfire. It warned him she was close to coming and drove him out of his head with wanting.

  He wasn't even aware he was moving, not until he thrust into her to the hilt again, reaching out to her with all his senses.

  She opened herself on the psychic plane. Her dragon vibrated and then poured itself down the psychic bond, into his mind, his body; and just like that, it felt like his skin was on fire.

  He looked up to find flames enclosing their joined bodies. It was the most sensuous image he'd ever seen.

  Hands clenching the sheets, her head was flung back. His mark was on her throat. Her nipples pebbled with desire as her waist arched off the bed before curving down to hips that flared in voluptuous contrast.

  All around them, the flames burned gold and green, tinged with blue. A blue that was his mark on her.

  "Open your eyes, baby. See what we are." Leaning in, still inside her, he braced his arms on either side of her head.

  Her eyelids fluttered open, the gold flecks swirling in green pupils with vertical slits. She'd gone dragon on him.

  "You are beautiful, Hope." His desire intensified, and then he was moving again.

  Desire and love and tenderness burst out of him as Aaron fitted his lips to hers, absorbing the scream of her climax even as he felt himself shatter.

  Epilogue

  Hope flew over Bombay city, her wings bathing in the sunshine that beat down on her. The heat sank into her blood, zinging through her veins as she rode an air current that blew in from the Arabian sea.

  Eve was no longer in a coma, but she was still not awake.

  Hope knew that was just the way of dragon shifters. She'd awake when her body was healed. Her sister was out of danger, and Hope was content with that.

  Below her, she could make out the broken bridge that stretched between two islands of the city.

  Aaron had told her that before the tsunami of 2014, the seven islands that made up the city had been joined together.

  The ruins of the bridge had been left to remind people that they didn't want the city to go back to the crowded, polluted metropolis it had once been. That the species of the city should find a way to live together, to preserve its status as the “Rising Hope of the East.”

  Another gust of wind struck her, for the air currents here were choppier than Mauritania.

  The skies weren't as blue either, and yet there was a wild beauty to these surroundings, the feel of urban landscape and nature clashing, each winning in parts. Much like the dragon and woman inside her.

  Perhaps her adopted home suited her better than she realized, Hope thought as she came in to land on the beach.

  The air shimmered green and gold around her.

  Pain and fear, joy and ecstasy…the conflicting emotions bubbled through her.

  She transformed back into the woman.

  Threaded through it all was love and an instinct that pulled at her through the mating bond.

  The wind tugged her hair, shivering over her skin.

  She walked toward the man who waited for her on the beach.

  Arms at his side, his chest was broad enough to stretch the cloth of the black T-shirt. He'd cut his hair.

  Hope was still getting used to seeing Aaron's hair short enough to brush his shoulders.

  It only enhanced those cheekbones and highlighted those cobalt-blue eyes that mirrored the rising tide.

  She came to a halt in front of him.

  "Storm's coming." She wound her arms around his shoulders and raised her lips.

  Her Ascendant clasped her around her waist, raising her to the balls of her feet, before swooping down to brush his lips over hers.

  The first drop of rain splashed on her nose.

  Sliding his lips over her cheek, Aaron licked the drop of water.

  A sizzle of heat vibrated straight to her core.

  "Have you ever made love in the first rain of the monsoon?" He trailed kisses down her neck. "When the parched earth drinks in the water and the air is filled with the smell of—"

  "Petrichor," Laughter bubbled up. Her chest felt light. She felt like she was still flying.

  "The scent of mud after the first rain." Blue clashed with green and gold.

  "Will we always be in sync like this, Aaron?"

  "Always," he promised. "I'm never letting you go." Sliding his arm down her waist, Aaron swept her up in his arms.

  She squealed as he ran with her toward the waves. The clouds opened, and the first rains poured over them.

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  1

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  Zeus

  “Boo!” I bare my teeth.

  The soldier cringes, and sweat beads his forehead.

  “Really, Z?” My second-in-command narrows his gaze.

  I raise my shoulders then let them drop. “Okay, a bit over the top.” But, cut me some slack, okay? I like to play with my prey.

  Besides, I have a flair for the dramatic, one of the few redeeming features I inherited from my bastard of a father. Except, oh, wait, I was the bastard in that relationship, given he’d never acknowledged me…not until I had my fingers around Golan’s neck and recognition had dawned in his eyes. Too late, Pater. Thirty years too late.

  The soldier’s skin is stretched so tight over his cheekbones that I expect it to crack any moment. The reek of piss stinks up the warehouse. The fool, clearly a beta by the way his shoulders are hunched, has wet himself.

  I yawn aloud. The sound of my jaws cracki
ng seems to snap the man into action, for he staggers forward, followed by his partner. They haul a rolled-up carpet between them.

  Strings of thread trail from the edges to sweep over the wooden floor. The patchwork on the outside of the carpet is peeling. The fabric seems so innocuous, so unassuming, it’s precisely that which sends all of my instincts on alert.

  A sliver of awareness ripples over my skin. Thud, thud, thud, my heartbeat accelerates. The fine hair on my neck rises.

  What the bloody hell? I can’t take my gaze off that damn rug. “Unfurl it.”

  The edge of impatience in my tone must have signaled the impending flare of temper, for Ethan, my second moves forward—not that the soldiers will dare try anything. The stripes on their vests mark them out as emissaries of the Leader of Scotland, and Kayden doesn’t have the balls to put them up to breaking into my stronghold. I drum my fingers over my chest. Nah! It’s exactly the kind of move, I’d expect that twat to try to pull off.

  Adrenaline laces my blood. I curl my fingers into fists.

  That piece of shit wants me out of the way so he can take over my position. Well, he and most of those gathered here. Don’t everyone rush all at once. I snicker.

  The Scot nearest to me pales.

  He expects me to kill him. The body count I’ve left behind in the past year ensures that most fear me. But I might spare these men; for now, and only because it keeps them guessing about when they are going to die. Can't have them getting too comfortable now, eh?

  I lean forward on the balls of my feet.

  The sudden movement draws a gasp from the beta. He bends and places his side of the rolled-up cloth on the floor. The other man follows.

  I take a step forward. Honestly, I don’t show any other outward sign of threat. I don’t even peel back my lips, or speak…well, okay, I glare at the soldier on the right.

  With an audible gulp, he turns and scampers down the big hall toward the still open doors. His partner blinks then scoots after him. My gaze is already on the piece of fabric left behind.

  “I don’t think it’s wise to open it, General,” Ethan warns.

  Since climate change unleashed tsunamis and wrecked Earth’s sublayers thirty years ago, trace metals all but vanished. Electronics can no longer be powered up, and technology collapsed, leaving no means of communicating. The only way to check what’s inside that rug is the old-fashioned way. To open it.

  “Consider yourself heard.” I crack my neck from side to side. “You’ve done your duty, Second, so can we get this charade over with?”

  Sure, his concern is genuine, and yet it doesn’t sit easily with me.

  Not since he betrayed the ex-General, aka my dear departed father, by aiding me in killing the old man.

  “Allow me, sir.” Solomon, my third, grabs the open seam of the curled-up mat. He heaves, but it doesn’t budge.

  Ethan moves to the other side, and together they tug at it. The cloth unfurls…and flattens out into a pool of turquoise and green.

  The illumination from the solitary skylight far above floods over it and the entire rug shimmers.

  My pulse races. The breath catches in my throat. My heart hammers and I am sure it’s going to jump out of my ribcage.

  The next second, a figure springs up from the carpet and launches itself at me. Head bent, dressed all in black. There’s a blur of movement, and a blade whines through the space.

  I slide aside.

  The breeze displaced by the stranger shimmers over my neck. A flash of pain cuts through me as the blade nicks my skin.

  I thrust out my leg, and the intruder goes sprawling to the floor, only to turn in a move which should have been near impossible.

  It calls attention to the lithe lines of the body that is wrapped in that jumpsuit. The figure launches itself back at me, and I bend my knees and throw the intruder over my shoulder.

  There’s a thump, then the sword skitters across the wooden floor.

  I swivel around and close the distance to where the infiltrator leaps up from the center of the carpet.

  The colors fade, the room shrinks around me. My vision narrows in on the face, to where the dark cloth has unraveled from around the head of the newcomer. Eyes of shattered green blaze at me.

  The hair on my nape rises.

  It’s her, the woman from my dreams.

  A strand of dark-red hair slinks free.

  The scent of rain on cool dawn air bleeds through the space, interlaced with that sugary essence of slickness.

  Blood rushes to my groin.

  Every instinct inside me goes on alert. “Omega,” I rasp.

  2

  Lucy

  I lift my chin, then farther up, then all the way up, to meet his gaze. To call the General massive is an understatement. He is a monster. A man-mountain, the biggest, most powerful alpha I have ever seen.

  His blue eyes blaze at me.

  A ripple of fear mixed with something else—lust? Anticipation? —tightens my stomach.

  His face is all hard planes and dark angles. Long black hair flows to his shoulders. His lower lip is full, obscenely so. It should soften his looks; instead, it only heightens the sense of danger that clings to him like a rich coat.

  It’s the exact opposite of the faded vest that embraces his torso.

  His clothes strike a jarring note in the middle of the most prosperous pocket of this city, which is where we are, but it suits this alpha. Declares exactly what he is: an asshole who doesn’t give a damn about anyone else.

  Who takes pleasure in surprising his friends and outwitting his enemies—no, he doesn’t have friends…doesn’t need friends…or lovers or… How would he be as a lover? A dominant? A male who’d take without mercy? That feminine, omega core of me quivers in anticipation.

  A pulse flares to life between my thighs.

  An age-old instinct deep inside awakes…and insists this alpha will pleasure me. He’ll bite me, lick me, suck me…and a piercing wave of desire twists my stomach.

  Heat flushes my skin, and yet I feel cold, so cold.

  I try to take a step forward, but my feet feel weighed down.

  The alpha thrusts out his chest, and the force of his dominance crashes over me.

  My breath catches.

  I can’t move. Can’t think. Can’t do anything but stare at his face, drink in his features. Open my heart and absorb every last particle of impact that his sheer charisma has on me.

  I want to trace that long, hooked nose of his. To close the distance between us and bite his square, pronounced jaw. Lick it, nibble on it, then pull his head down between my thighs until his hard whiskers rub across my sensitive core.

  Heat floods my skin.

  My nipples tighten.

  I don’t need to look down at my breasts to know they’re thrusting out, their sharp edges a palpable outline against the material.

  He must know the effect he has on me, for the strong cords of his throat ripple. His sculpted chest seems to widen as he straightens and plants his arms on his trim hips. His powerful shoulders block out the sight of the room. His entire presence sucks up the air in the space. The strength of his personality is a visceral force that crashes into me and threatens to overpower me. I want to reach for the throbbing space between my legs and relieve the pressure that is building in my womb. What is happening to me?

  “Do you know what I do to those who challenge me?” He growls.

  The rich sound grates over my sensitized nerve endings and shudders straight to my center.

  My thighs quiver, my stomach trembles, and I thrust my pelvis forward in blatant invitation. What the hell? It seems my body has already arrived at a decision and the rest of me is struggling to catch up.

  I grit my teeth. “I am sure you are going to tell me.” Every instinct in me tells me to cower…to give in to him. But I cannot. Will not. The part of me that is honed to fight back, insists I resist.

  I jut out my chin.

  My heart pounds in my rib cage, a
nd a pulse flares to life between my thighs.

  He growls again, and the sound tugs at my nerves. The vibrations roll over me and surround me. Cocooning me in the center.

  It’s like nothing I have ever heard before.

  Moisture pools in my core. The scent of slick bleeds into the air. I gasp. No, not now. I can’t be heading straight into a heat cycle, not when I am here on a mission. Is it the adrenaline of the attack that has brought on this sudden wave of need?

  His lips, those sensuous lips, tighten.

  A vein throbs at his temple, and his cheeks flush as he looks down at me from his superior height.

  I should feel emboldened that I am having an effect on him, the most powerful alpha in all the land, but instead a writhing need to challenge him tears at me. To ask him. To give in to his every demand. And that confuses me.

  “You are an omega but not a submissive?” He frowns.

  The hackles of my neck rise. I had not expected this alpha to figure that out.

  Genetic mutation brought on by climate change has divided the human race into three subspecies: alphas, betas, and omegas, and I happen to belong to the weakest of them. But the warring sides of my personality have made me an anomaly in this world where alphas take, and omegas are raised with the expectation of being bred.

  “It’s why you should let me go. I am not suitable for reproduction.” My stomach trembles, my palms begin to sweat. I am trying to rationalize with a savage.

  Accelerated cellular transformation over the past few generations has equipped the alphas with the ability to knot the omegas and increase the chance of impregnation.

  As for omegas, the onset of heat cycles at puberty compel most to seek out an alpha to rut them through it. Nature’s way of balancing out the dwindling population count, helped by the fact that heat suppressants are banned. Even black market supplies of the precious chemicals have run out.